It’s Only Money

A thanksgiving reminder.

It had been a long day of shopping. My children needed sweaters and socks, linens and winter blankets, hats and gloves, pants and shirts. I stepped into the last store on my run, my bags bulging, my fingers red and raw from holding them. I had done all my winter shopping.

“Can I leave these bags behind the desk while I look around?” I asked the owner of the small store.

Looking at my exhausted posture, she smiled and readily agreed.

I still needed a corduroy skirt to match my daughter’s uniform. I found a perfect one in the back of the store, navy and thick. It was so perfect I grabbed two of them. I came back to the cashier in front of the store to pay.

“I can’t believe how much money I spent today,” I told her.

“It goes like water,” she said as she punched the numbers on the register. “That will be $40.”

I handed her my credit card and she swiped. I listened to the tick-tick of the machine as I reached behind the desk to retrieve my bags.

They weren’t there.

A flutter of panic beat against my ribcage.

“My bags?” I asked.

She looked down, alarmed. “They were here!” she said. “I….”

She came out from behind her desk. She bent down, peering underneath. She moved aside piles of winter coats ready for sale.

I ran through the store, peeking under long racks of velvet robes and displays thick with girl’s tights.

I ran back to the front, breathless.

“I can’t find them,” I said. “I can’t tell you how much money I spent today!”

She bit her lip. “I feel terrible.”

We both kept looking. Then she looked at her watch. It was closing time.

“Let me take your number,” she said. “We reopen again later in the evening. I’ll certainly call you if anything turns up.”

What choice did I have? I scribbled all my phone numbers on to the paper. Then I headed home, empty handed save for a small bag with two perfect skirts.

I was devastated.

Each time the phone rang, I jumped. But it was just someone offering to sell me a water filtering system, or my neighbor asking to borrow an egg.

As dusk faded into evening, my hope waned right along with it.

The phone rang again. I picked it up. It was My Aunt Nomi from America.

“Nomi!” I said. It was so nice to hear her voice, despite the melancholy that hovered over my day. My Aunt Nomi, an ovarian cancer survivor, is one of the most positive people I know.

“What’s wrong?” she asked me. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ve had a lousy day,” I said. “I bought everything for the kids today. I mean everything. I don’t want to tell you how much money I spent. And it all disappeared!” I detailed what had happened that morning.

“Oh, oh!” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“Yael, can I tell you a true story?”

“Sure.”

“Do you remember last summer when my house in the city was burglarized?”

Of course I remembered. Aunt Nomi had been up in the country and her daughter Talya had gone back to the city for a wedding. She’d gone to borrow some jewelry from her mother’s safe and when she got there, she discovered that the entire safe was gone.

“Talya called me that afternoon,” Nomi said. “And I could barely hear her she was crying so hard. I asked her ‘what happened?’ over and over again until finally she told me. ‘It’s all gone Mommy. All your jewelry. Everything.’”

“You poor thing,” I said.

Aunt Nomi laughed. “Do you know what I did when she told me that?”

I shook my head even though Aunt Nomi couldn’t see me.

“I laughed. I laughed so hard. And I want to tell you why.”

I sat down on the couch. I knew this would be good.

“When I was scheduled for the first surgery after my cancer diagnosis, they told me that I might never wake up. I was so busy with everything that I completely forgot about my jewelry. I’d amassed quite an expensive and sentimental collection over the course of my 57 years. Before I left my house, I quickly took a photo of each and every piece of jewelry and then we went to the hospital. Someone had the photos developed and they brought them to the hospital. And do you know what I was doing as they wheeled me down the hallway for the surgery from which I might never wake up?”

“What?”

“I was labeling the backs of those photos with the names of my children. So that they could have my jewels in case I didn’t wake up.”

I tried absorbing the gravity of those few moments as Aunt Nomi was wheeled towards the operating room and an uncertain fate.

”My children would never have my jewelry. But they still had me. I couldn’t be anything other than grateful.”

“I handed those photos to the kids. I figured they’d need it soon enough. Even if I survived the surgery my chances weren’t good. That day, when Talya called me and told me that my jewels were gone, was seven years after that surgery. And I laughed. Because even though all my jewels were gone, I was still here. My children would never have my jewelry. But they still had me. I couldn’t be anything other than grateful.”

I was crying softly by now, grateful that I still had my Aunt Nomi too. And I understood what she was telling me. That blankets and pillows and sweaters and gloves and pants and shirts could all be replaced. It was only money. I felt it in my core. I was comforted.

Five minutes after I hung up the phone the phone rang again. I didn’t jump this time. I picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello Mrs. Mermelstein! This is the owner of the store….someone came in carrying all of your bags. He said his wife had asked him to pick up bags from behind the register at a store and he thought it was our store but it was actually a different store entirely. We have all of your things!”

Featured at Aish.com:

About the Author

Yael Mermelstein is an award winning author whose stories are studied for the Israeli English matriculation exams and featured in national textbooks. Her book, Izzy the Whiz and Passover McClean was distributed across the U.S. by the PJ Library. She publishes prolifically, most frequently in Binah Magazine. Yael lives in Israel with her family and her pet computer.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 6

(5)
Anna B.,
November 20, 2013 4:46 PM

A great story and so meaningful for all. I felt as though it was like a wake up call. My son had a brain tumor called Glioblastoma Multiforme Phase 4, he was given 1-5 yrs. to live, I prayed and had so many people praying for him, people I didn't even know. My son is alive maybe not feeling good all the time but alive and it's been 9 years. So material things aren't important to me, I have my son and he's raising his children with a wife that has stuck by him and it sure hasn't been easy. Faith, prayers and love are the ingrediants to a more than happy life. Any problems sent in my direction,well they always have a way of working out in the end. Mind you if God were to take him we were prepared even though I would suffer not having my son I knew he would be taken care of much better than here on earth, I just would have missed him terribly. I had Cancer also and that was 15 yrs.ago. and I'm still here. God has his reasons so I don't ask why just grateful for living.

(4)
Anonymous,
November 19, 2013 10:03 PM

Thank you.

Never hurts to be reminded, every so often, of this important perspective.

(3)
Dalia Ratner,
November 19, 2013 5:40 PM

My eyes are welling with tears...

Such a meaningful and important story to give us perspective on what truly matters in life! Thanks for sharing and expressing it so movingly. Let's keep laughing at the unimportant difficulties and be grateful for the brachas we do have!

(2)
Anonymous,
November 19, 2013 4:23 PM

Good lesson!

What a true lesson. When my family evacuated from hurricane sandy and eventually moved 7 times in the next 4 weeks my good jewelry that I had taken along lest we be looted (and yes we did have a quite a few things lifted out of out house) was somehow list in transit. While it's upsetting, the loss of jewelry and the items in my house that were flooded or taken is just st money. I'm so grateful that one year later we are all here back home in good health!!'

(1)
Abq Jew,
November 19, 2013 4:06 PM

It really is only money

My father z"l always told me: Any problem that can be solved by writing a check is a good problem to have.

Jaya,
November 20, 2013 12:12 AM

Money !

What an interesting , meaningful and wise article ! Yes , and to say any problem that can be solved by writing a check is a good problem is interesting too ! Perspective is what one needs to live well and this teaches that in a significant way .

I was born with a neuromuscular disease known as Spinal Muscular Atrophy and have been confined to a wheelchair my entire life. Unfortunately my sister and I were raised without any religious instruction or guidance. My father wasn't Jewish and although my mother is, she openly claims to be an atheist. The "good news" is that both my sister and myself - independent of each other and at different times in our lives - realized that we are Jewish and chose to live a Jewish life.

Because of my disability, I'm not always able to attend services on Shabbat, but I always light candles, pray from a Siddur and read the weekly Torah portion. I would like to know whether, considering my situation, if using a computer is allowed during the Sabbath? I found the complete Bible online and since my computer is voice-activated I don't have to struggle to turn pages or continuously ask for assistance.

Thank you to everyone at Aish.com for making it possible for myself and so many others to learn about being Jewish and grow in the most important part of our lives.

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Thank you so much for your encouraging words and for sharing your inspiring story.

God gives each of us a set of challenges. To those more capable of conquering difficulties, He gave bigger challenges. A challenge from God is a sign that He cares about us and has confidence in our ability to become great.

It sounds like you're doing great!

As for using the computer on Shabbat, that is prohibited. A foundation of Judaism is that we need to respect God's wishes, even if we think that doing otherwise is "for a good reason." Consider this story:

A king calls in his trusted minister and says: "I have an important mission for you to perform. Go to the neighboring kingdom and meet in the palace with their leaders. But remember one thing - under no circumstances must you remove your shirt during this meeting. Now go and do as I say."

The minister sets off on his merry way and soon arrives at the neighboring kingdom. There he heads straight for the palace where he meets with the King. In the midst of their discussion, he sees some of the king's officers pointing and laughing at him.

"Why are you laughing?" asks the visiting minister.

"Because we've never seen someone with such a pronounced hunchback as yourself," they say.

"What are you talking about? I'm not a hunchback!"

"Of course you are!"

"No I'm not!"

"We'll bet you one million dollars that you are!"

"Fine - I'll gladly take your bet."

"Okay, so take off your shirt and prove it."

At which point the minister remembers the parting words of the king... "under no circumstances must you remove your shirt during the meeting." Yet, the minister reasons, a million dollars would certainly bring added wealth to the king's coffers. I know I'm not a hunchback, so I'll surely win the bet. Of course, under these circumstances the king would approve...

The minister removes his shirt and proudly displays his perfect posture. With pride in his achievement, he holds out his hand, into which is placed a check for one million dollars.

The minister can barely contain his excitement. He quickly ends the meeting and runs back to give the wonderful news to his king. "I earned you a million dollars!" exclaims the minister. "It was easy. I only had to remove my shirt to prove that I wasn't a hunchback."

"You did what?!" shouts the king. "But I told you specifically not to remove your shirt. I trusted that you'd follow instructions, and so I bet the other king $10 million dollars that he couldn't get you to remove your shirt!"

The Torah tells us "Do not add or subtract from the mitzvahs." (Deut. 4:2) Jewish law is a precise metaphysical science. Consider a great work of art. Would you consider adding a few notes to a Bach fugue, or some brushstrokes to a Rembrandt portrait?!

Perfection, by definition, cannot be improved upon. Altering Torah law is an unacceptable implication that God is lacking.

The verse in Psalms 19:8 declares: "Torat Hashem Temimah" - the Torah of God is complete. For just as adding one wire to a transistor radio means it no longer can pick up reception, so too we mustn't tinker with Jewish law. The mitzvahs of God are perfect.

May the Almighty give you strength to continue your growth in Judaism.

In 1315, King Louis X of France called back the Jews who had been expelled a few decades earlier by King Louis IX. This marked a theme in Jewish-French life: expulsions and subsequent invitations to return. The French monarchy was trying to establish their land as the "new Jerusalem," and to fulfill this mission attempted several crusades to Israel. In 1615, King Louis XIII ordered that Christians were forbidden to speak with Jews, upon penalty of death. Eventually, in 1683, King Louis XIV expelled the Jews from the colony of Martinique.

When you experience joy, you feel good because your magnificent brain produces hormones called endorphins. These self-produced chemicals give you happy and joyful feelings.

Research on these biochemicals has proven that the brain-produced hormones enter your blood stream even if you just act joyful, not only when you really are happy. Although the joyful experience is totally imaginary and you know that it didn’t actually happen, when you speak and act as if that imaginary experience did happen, you get a dose of endorphins.

These chemicals are naturally produced by your brain. They are totally free and entirely healthy.

Many people find that this knowledge inspires them to create more joyful moments. It’s not just an abstract idea, but a physical reality.

There is no person on earth so righteous, who does only good and does not sin (Ecclesiastes 7:20).

Reading the suggestions for ridding oneself of character defects, someone might say, "These are all very helpful for someone who has character defects, but I do not see anything about myself that is defective."

In the above-cited verse, Solomon states what we should all know: no one is perfect. People who cannot easily find imperfections within themselves must have a perception so grossly distorted that they may not even be aware of major defects. By analogy, if a person cannot hear anything, it is not that the whole world has become absolutely silent, but that he or she has lost all sense of hearing and may thus not be able to hear even the loudest thunder.

In his monumental work, Duties of the Heart, Rabbeinu Bachaye quotes a wise man who told his disciples, "If you do not find defects within yourself, I am afraid you have the greatest defect of all: vanity." In other words, people who see everything from an "I am great/right" perspective will of course believe that they do no wrong.

When people can see no faults in themselves, it is generally because they feel so inadequate that the awareness of any personal defects would be devastating. Ironically, vanity is a defense against low self-esteem. If we accept ourselves as fallible human beings and also have a sense of self-worth, we can become even better than we are.

Today I shall...

be aware that if I do not find things within myself to correct, it may be because I am threatened by such discoveries.

With stories and insights,
Rabbi Twerski's new book Twerski on Machzor makes Rosh Hashanah prayers more meaningful. Click here to order...